The Exodus Series
by Meredith Welling
Summary: The aftermath of the events in "Exodus," mainly from Lana's point of view. (C/L) *Story Completed*
1. Silence

Lana was lying down on the couch in the Kent's living room, staring numbly up at the ceiling. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she was squinting painfully at a spider on the far wall when she heard the door open in the next room. She sat up quickly and brushed the hair out of her face. She stood up and crossed her arms across her chest.  
  
'Come on Lana,' she thought. 'Keep it together. You have to tell them, then you can leave.'  
  
She didn't know how long she'd been waiting. She was slightly surprised to see that it was dark already; stars were appearing in the hazy night sky.  
  
It was a moment before Jonathan noticed her, standing dumbly in the middle of the living room. She caught his gaze, one of annoyance and despair.  
  
"Lana," he barked gruffly. "What are you doing here?" He helped his wife into a chair at the kitchen table.  
  
Suddenly, Lana was at a loss for words. She'd been practicing what she was going to say for hours, but now, all of a sudden, it seemed so futile. Nothing she could say would change the fact that Clark had left them. She could feel the tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. Her lips quivered and she put a hand over her mouth to stop any escaping sound.  
  
Martha was tired and pained. She sat distractedly at the table popping prescription pills from a cheery, bright orange bottle.  
  
"Are you alright Lana?" she asked, without looking up.  
  
Then, after a moment, "Where's Clark?"  
  
Lana's voice caught in her throat. The Kents looked as if they'd aged ten years overnight. She silently chastised herself for being so weak, and miserably plodded on.  
  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Kent," she said, stalling. "Clark told me what happened. If you need anything."  
  
Martha managed a weak smile. "Thank you. I'll be fine."  
  
Lana nodded and took a deep breath. "This is it.'  
  
"I have to tell you something." She moved into the kitchen, her hands stuffed into her pants pockets. She averted their curious gaze as long as possible before finally meeting their glance.  
  
"Clark's gone," she ventured cautiously.  
  
Martha looked up, shocked. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Lana winced and put a hand to her head. "I'm.I'm so sorry," she blurted. "I tried to stop him, but he just left."  
  
"When?" Jonathan asked, focused now.  
  
Lana shook her head. "I don't know. A few hours, maybe?"  
  
"Did he say why?"  
  
Lana's hands were trembling as she fought to regain her composure. "He said, he didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. That what happened was his fault. I don't know, I didn't understand it and everything just happened so fast. I'm so sorry," she repeated, brushing away falling tears as quickly as they came.  
  
"I.I should go." For a while, the silence in the room was deafening. Lana wanted to say something more; she couldn't just stand there in the kitchen crying. Finally, Jonathan spoke.  
  
"Let me drive you home," he offered.  
  
"That's fine," Lana said quickly and zippered up her jacket. "I'll walk."  
  
"No. It's late and Chloe's house is miles away."  
  
But Lana was determined. "I'll be fine. I'd really rather walk home. Feel better Mrs. Kent," she called, as Jonathan followed her to the door.  
  
Lana leaned into Mr. Kent conspiratorially. "If he comes home, or phones, or anything.please, call me. I don't care what time it is. I just.I just want to know that he's okay."  
  
Jonathan nodded and smiled kindly. "I'm sure he will be."  
  
Lana smiled bravely and pretended to agree with him. But she was not convinced. And from the look on Jonathan Kent's face, neither was he. 


	2. Ironic

"Thank God!" Chloe exclaimed dramatically, as Lana opened the door to the Sullivan's house and stepped inside. She was shivering, her arms wrapped around her small frame.  
  
Chloe called into the other room. "It's okay Dad, she's home!"  
  
She turned back to Lana, annoyed. "What the hell? My dad was just about to call the cops. The Kents called an hour ago to see if you'd made it home safely. Where were you?" she questioned suspiciously.  
  
Lana looked apologetic. "Sorry, I was out walking.and thinking." She headed into the living room and stripped off her jacket, now damp from the night air.  
  
Chloe stared at Lana's disheveled appearance incredulously. "What happened? You look like crap," she said bluntly.  
  
Lana sighed and threw herself down on the couch. Chloe joined her, and plastered a look of concern on her face.  
  
"Are you alright?" she probed gently.  
  
Lana shook her head miserably.  
  
"Chloe.I lied to you this morning, when you asked about Clark and I. We weren't going to the wedding as friends."  
  
Chloe nodded. "Yeah, Clark already told me. Sort of. Actually, I've known for a while now."  
  
"How?" Lana asked, shocked.  
  
Chloe shrugged. "I went up to the loft one day to talk to Clark. You were there. With him. Not exactly talking."  
  
Lana turned crimson and looked away, obviously embarrassed. "I'm really sorry, Chloe. We didn't want you to find out like that."  
  
"It's no big deal," Chloe scoffed nonchalantly. "I'm over him. He's all yours."  
  
"No, he's not," Lana said, her voice wavering.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Lana's shoulders slumped forward as she broke down. A sob escaped her lips before she slapped her hand over her mouth. Her face contorted in pain and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. Finally, she simply gave in and let go.  
  
Chloe sat uncomfortably watching Lana Lang unravel before her eyes. Lana was crying now, her head buried in her hands. It was actually kind of disturbing, she thought. Lana had always been this perfect creature, to be worshipped and adored. Chloe thought that by living with her, she'd get to see the real Lana. But what you saw was the real Lana. She was sweet and kind and beautiful, just like everyone thought. And suddenly, Chloe was actually starting to feel sorry for her. 'Don't be so pathetic,' she thought to herself. 'This is Lana. She doesn't care about your feelings or anyone else's.' But the person sitting in an awkward heap in her living room sobbing her eyes out over Clark Kent, didn't really seem like any threat to her anymore. Just a heartbroken, devastated teenage girl.  
  
"Oh Chloe," Lana sobbed, lifting her head. "I don't know what happened. He told me he loved me. I wanted him to stay so badly, but he said he couldn't because he'd hurt me. I just don't understand! Clark would never intentionally hurt anyone. I've never seen him like that before. He was so determined. Chloe, Clark was happy. We were finally happy. Together. Everything was so wonderful and then this happens. And I knew! I knew something was really, really wrong, but as usual, he wouldn't tell me what was going on. And now he's gone."  
  
"What do you mean, gone?" Chloe asked disdainfully.  
  
"He left. He told me he loved me, and then he just.drove off. That's it. I have no idea where he went, and I'm so scared and I had to tell his parents when they came home from the hospital that their son was gone and I had no idea where, and I couldn't stop crying and it was just so horrible and--."  
  
"Lana! Calm down! Everything's going to be fine." Chloe wrapped her arms comfortingly around the other girl. She was playing the role of the supportive friend, and she knew how to fake it well.  
  
Slowly, Lana's sobs subsided and she felt her breathing return to normal.  
  
She looked up at Chloe, her eyes dark and misty. "Things aren't going to be okay. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it."  
  
Chloe turned away and rolled her eyes. 'Whatever, Lana,' she thought. She wasn't feeling too sorry for her anymore. This was the bitch that had stolen Clark's affections from her. She wasn't going to be let off so easily, just because she was pretty and cried a lot.  
  
Lana expression, although still somber, lightened slightly. "Thanks, Chloe. For listening. I really appreciate it."  
  
"Anytime," Chloe said flashing her a quick smile, her eyes cold and unfeeling. "Here, why don't I go pour us some coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot. Then we can talk more."  
  
Lana smiled gratefully. "That would be great. Thanks, Chloe," she said, almost relieved. She sunk back into the couch and closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in thought.  
  
Chloe disappeared into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Lana was still sitting stupidly in a love-struck stupor on the couch. Then she picked up the portable phone from the counter and dialed a hastily recalled number.  
  
"Hello?" came a gruff voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"Mr. Luthor? This is Chloe Sullivan." 


	3. Chill

Lana Lang knocked on the Kents' front door and waited patiently. She could hear people talking inside, but the voices stopped when Martha Kent opened the door.  
  
She smiled warmly. "Come on in Lana."  
  
"How are you doing Mrs. Kent?" Lana asked gingerly, wondering if she should acknowledge it at all.  
  
Martha saddened for a moment, then smiled a bit.  
  
"You know you can call me Martha, honey."  
  
Lana nodded, almost shyly. "Okay."  
  
"I'm doing alright, all things considered." She opened the door wider and motioned Lana in.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened. Clark never told me about."  
  
Martha nodded. "We didn't want him to, until the pregnancy was farther along. I'm sure you can understand how difficult it was for him to keep that big a secret."  
  
Lana laughed off-handedly. "Well, Clark always was good at hiding the truth." The words sunk in and the smile faded from her lips.  
  
Jonathan sat in the living room, and ushered his wife and Lana in.  
  
Martha tensed up noticeably. "Uh, why don't you sit down?"  
  
"I got your message," Lana offered. "I came right over. Is there any news?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Uh.no. There isn't." Martha sat down next to her husband across from the couch, where Lana had taken the liberty of situating herself.  
  
"Look," Jonathan said, struggling with the words. "It's been a couple weeks. As you know, Martha and I filed a missing persons report, but since Clark is a teenager, and left on his own, the police aren't really taking it seriously. And we can't say we blame them."  
  
"Lana," Martha interjected. "We called you here, because we think it's time you knew the truth. We've been talking, and.you deserve to know everything."  
  
"Um, no offense.but don't you think Clark should be the one to tell me."  
  
Martha sighed painfully. "Honey," she started gently. "We don't know when, or if Clark is even coming back."  
  
"He's coming back. I know he will," Lana replied, her eyes glassy, her voice cracking under the pressure of having to appear brave and strong in front of Clark's parents. Still, they were the only people who could understand the depths of her pain at this moment.  
  
"Lana, we hope that you're right, but in case you're not, you need to know." Martha said this delicately, so as to not offend the already fragile girl.  
  
"Maybe I don't want to know anymore. Maybe it's more trouble than it's worth." Lana turned away from them, trying to hide her anger and fear. If Clark's own parents didn't believe he'd come back, how could she keep hoping in vain that he would?  
  
She shook her head. "No," she said clearly, with new resolve. "Tell me. I want to know. I need to know." Her voice broke as she spoke, trying to appear much calmer than she really was.  
  
"Lana," Martha said, her own eyes filling with tears. "I need to ask you something."  
  
"Martha." Jonathan warned quietly.  
  
"No," she said, silencing her husband. "I want to ask her." She turned back to Lana.  
  
"Do you love Clark?" she asked, her voice overflowing with emotion.  
  
Lana small body shuddered at the mention of his name. She let out a small whimper.  
  
"Yes, of course I do.more than anything."  
  
Martha's face lightened considerably. She looked to her husband and he nodded supportively.  
  
"Lana," Martha said gently. "What we're about to tell you can never leave this room. You can't tell anyone. Not ever. It's for your own protection, as well as Clark's."  
  
"I understand," she said seriously. Lana's face remained impassive, but her darting eyes betrayed the fact that she was just as anxious about the situation as the Kents were.  
  
"So this is it? The big secret? I hope it's good," she said, laughing softly to herself, trying to dissipate the awkwardness of the conversation.  
  
Martha's face drained of color. 'Lana has no idea what she's in for,' she thought. She sighed, took a deep breath and began. Jonathan squeezed her hand encouragingly.  
  
"Lana, before I say anything, you need to know, that the reason Clark never told you, was because he was afraid. Knowing what I'm about to tell you is a huge responsibility. And a dangerous one. Do you understand?"  
  
Lana nodded. "I'm ready," she said confidently.  
  
Martha forced a smile and continued. "As you know.Clark is.special."  
  
The girl's face lit up. "Yeah, he is."  
  
"He's different. He's not like us." Martha wished desperately that Lana could simply read her mind. That she wouldn't have to be sitting here in the living room, telling her son's girlfriend what she was about to tell her.  
  
Lana played with her hands nervously. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Honey.I don't know how to say this, but.Clark's not from this planet." Martha anxiously awaited Lana's reaction.  
  
She smiled forcefully, and after a moment, was shocked to find herself not completely reeling from the news.  
  
Martha and Jonathan shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Lana sat half-laughing, half-trembling in fear. Finally, she spoke. "You're joking," she said, although the words came out in a gasp.  
  
"No," said Jonathan soberly. "We're not. He came in a small ship with the meteor showers in 1989. We adopted him as our own son, and have raised him as such ever since."  
  
"You mean.you mean, he's."  
  
"An alien." Martha finished for her.  
  
"An alien," Lana repeated in wonder. She was not immediately brought to her knees by the notion that her boyfriend was not human. It was too unbelievable to comprehend at all. It all seemed too surreal to be true.  
  
"He has abilities."  
  
Lana shook her head. "No," she whispered under her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut. "No, this can't be happening," she muttered. "This can't be real."  
  
"Lana, I know this is a lot to be taking in right now, but we wanted to tell you because we want you to understand why Clark left."  
  
"Why did he leave?" she asked, her heart aching at the memory.  
  
Martha shook her head. "It's complicated. But if Clark said it was for our protection, then we believe him."  
  
Lana nodded but did not seem placated by the thought. If anything, she looked increasingly more upset each passing minute. "I just wish he'd call. What if he's hurt, or in trouble?"  
  
"He's not hurt." Jonathan said softly. "We know that. Clark's basically indestructible. The only thing he's allergic to is the meteor rocks."  
  
Lana's eyes widened. "My necklace," she murmured, touching her bare neck, and remembering the memories associated with the green pendant.  
  
A thousand questions rushed through her head. Questions she didn't have answers to. Not now, and maybe not ever. Questions that haunted her nightmares as she slept, and consumed her thoughts every waking moment.  
  
A sudden chill in the air forced Lana back down to earth. "I have to go," she mumbled warily. She felt drained and numb. She was not expecting this kind of truth when she'd walked over to the Kents' that night. Clark's family was not known for their candor. 'Why now?' Lana asked herself. 'Why like this, all of a sudden?' Lana realized with a start that they were just as scared as she was. They were afraid they'd never see their son again. They wanted someone to experience their pain with them. And Lana was that person. 'Maybe lies are better than the truth," she thought bitterly.  
  
Martha put her hand over Lana's, a gesture of maternal kindness. She flinched and pulled away.  
  
"No," she said shaking her head furiously. "No, I can't. I just can't. I need to go," she said again, leaping up. She ran, stumbling, for the door. She hastily jostled the door handle and was outside; gasping in the fresh, cool air.  
  
Jonathan called after her, but she was already gone. 


	4. Inside

On some level, she must have known. It was so painfully obvious, now that she looked back on it. But in retrospect, life is always so much more clear.  
  
Lana lay unmoving on top of her bed, still made up from that morning. She made no effort to get undressed, or brush her hair, or even pull back the covers. She'd been home precisely an hour. Chloe was in her room studying, and Gabe was cooking a late dinner for himself in the kitchen. She'd yelled a greeting of some sort when she came in, but she could not recall if anyone had acknowledged it. She didn't care. No one would be disturbing her thoughts tonight. Which was good, because she had a lot to think about.  
  
The walk home from the Kents' had been the longest one of her life. But when it was over, she could hardly remember if she'd thought about anything at all. Each time she recalled what had transpired at their house that evening she felt as if she was processing the information for the first time again.  
  
'Clark is an alien,' she repeated again.  
  
The bewilderment of those first few moments of enlightenment had not subsided yet.  
  
It just wasn't possible. Except that it was. If it had been anyone else but Clark Kent, Lana would have found it utterly insane. But it was Clark, and it seemed to explain a lot of things. Like the twister, and all the other times he'd been there at just the right moment to save her. And all the secrets and lies.  
  
She wanted to scream or cry or go out and do something crazy like get drunk or go sky-diving. Lana laughed out loud just thinking about it. She wasn't that person. She was calm and composed, no matter what. Wasn't she? All she knew was that she was done crying. She'd cried more in the last few weeks than she ever had before. It was starting to seem pathetic. 'Sure, my boyfriend's been lying to me for years, obviously doesn't trust me at all, and hasn't been seen or heard from in weeks, but whatever.' Suddenly, everything seemed so crazy it was almost funny. Lana sighed. 'If I don't deal with this, there won't be anything left of me when Clark gets back. If he gets back.' Lana shrugged away the thought.  
  
She knew she should be more upset. 'I just found out my boyfriend's an extraterrestrial. Hmm, maybe I'm going into shock.' Or maybe, the whole point it's just not that shocking when you really think about it.  
  
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that something bad was going to happen.  
  
Lana sat, lost inside her own head. She was trying to make sense of something she could not explain rationally. Normally, if she had a problem she needed help with, she'd go to Clark. But this time, this was not an option. Finally, she closed her eyes, forced herself to turn off her mind and slept. 


	5. Hush

Pete looked down in disgust at the various array of crap from his locker, now dumped on the floor in front of him. He made a face and tossed an old science project into the garbage can he'd dragged over, for the ceremonial locker cleaning. It was the last day of school, but summer wasn't turning out exactly as he'd planned and he'd almost rather have been studying than worrying about all that had happened in Smallville lately. His best friend had left and not been heard from in two weeks. Lex Luthor's plane had been missing just as long, and the papers were predicting the worst. Chloe had been distant and acting strange, and he was afraid Clark's mysterious disappearance had raised her suspicions. He looked up from a year's worth of vocabulary tests and math papers he'd never remembered to turn in, to see Lana Lang rounding the corner of the hallway, craning her neck, seemingly looking for someone. He watched as she scoured the halls, never thinking that she might be looking for him, but when they made eye contact, she acknowledged him and hurried over. She wrinkled her nose at the mess in front of him, said nothing, and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Where are we going?" he asked as she took him by the arm and dragged him away.  
  
"Not here," she said calmly, her voice concealing any apprehension she was feeling.  
  
She slowed down when they'd reached their destination, a janitorial closet at the end of the hall. Pete trailed behind her. She around furtively to make sure no one was coming, and then shoved Pete inside and closed the door behind her. It was pitch black inside. Pete could hear Lana's harried breathing distinctly in the small space.  
  
"Uh.Lana."  
  
"I've got it," she said, and groped around for the light switch. When she located it, the room flooded with light, and they squinted to adjust to the change.  
  
Lana looked around the room. It was jam packed with various cleaning supplies, brooms, mops, and toilet paper. Lana almost smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation. She just kidnapped Pete Ross and pulled him into a storage closet. She snapped back to reality when Pete's voice interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"What's with the weird meeting place? You okay?"  
  
Lana sighed. "Sorry about that. I just thought, given the nature of this conversation, we might like to talk in private."  
  
"Couldn't it have waited until after school? You know, so we didn't have to be stuck in here?"  
  
Lana offered an apology. "Sorry. I got impatient. I've been trying to find you all day. There's something I've been meaning to ask you for awhile, and I was in gym, and I suddenly got the nerve to do it, so here I am."  
  
Pete slid his backpack off his shoulder and let it fall to the floor before joining it there. He motioned for Lana to sit down. She complied.  
  
"Okay," he said seriously. "What's up?"  
  
"It's about Clark."  
  
"Yeah, I kind of figured."  
  
"Uh.before I say anything, I think you should know that it's really important that we only talk about this when no one else is around."  
  
He nodded, silently wondering what this was about. "Okay, cool."  
  
Lana bit her bottom lip. "Okay." She gave him a quick smile before swallowing nervously and continuing.  
  
"Pete.you've been friends with Clark for a long time, right?"  
  
"Since we were kids, yeah. Why?"  
  
"Pete," she whispered achingly. "How much do you know about him?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Lana, are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"  
  
"Do you know the secret?"  
  
Pete's mouth fell agape. "Do you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How much exactly?"  
  
"Well, how much do you know?"  
  
Pete laughed. "This isn't getting us anywhere."  
  
Lana relaxed. "I guess not. So, you know that Clark is." "An alien?" Pete finished.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, her emotions teetering back and forth between overwhelming feelings of relief and betrayal.  
  
Pete obviously saw it play out on her face, because he quickly adjusted his tone to soothe her.  
  
"Lana, I found out by accident. He was forced to tell me."  
  
She nodded unhappily.  
  
"So.he finally told you?"  
  
She shook her head angrily. "No. His parents did. After he left."  
  
"Whoa! That doesn't seem like something they'd ever do. His secret's a big deal."  
  
"Well, to their credit, they weren't exactly enthusiastic about it. And they weren't in the best frame of mind either. Did you know about the baby?"  
  
"Yeah," Pete said quietly.  
  
"I don't know exactly what happened, but Clark was really upset when he left."  
  
"No wonder. So, the Kents told you everything, huh?"  
  
"Well, no. Not everything. That's why I'm here. Pete, I know the basics, but.I haven't been back to see Clark's parents since they told me. It's just.too weird. But I want to know more. God, I'm dying of curiosity. Like, what can he do? I mean, I've never met an alien before. You need to help me Pete," she said, her voice rising in desperation. "I need answers."  
  
He looked Lana up and down for the first time since she'd accosted him in the hallway. She was wide-eyed and manic; her gaze darted about nervously. "Calm down," he said soothingly, and put a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Okay," he said in a hushed tone. "First of all.well, he has powers." He looked into her eyes, waiting for a reaction. To his relief, she simply stared at him numbly.  
  
"Right. That's why he's always at the right place at the right time." She nodded to herself, trying to make the information sink in.  
  
"And he's got super speed," Pete continued, cautiously.  
  
"No wonder he's always gone when you turn your back for a second."  
  
"Yup. And let's see.heat vision."  
  
"You mean."  
  
"He can make fire with his eyes."  
  
"So, in The Talon that time."  
  
"That was him."  
  
"Wow," she replied incredulously. "What else?"  
  
"Well, he has X-Ray vision. And he's basically indestructible. Impervious to bullets, knives, well.anything, really."  
  
"Jesus. And all this time.I never knew."  
  
"Well you've got to admit, it's kind of unbelievable. Not exactly the first conclusion you'd jump to."  
  
"I know, but.I knew something was different with Clark. But.I never imagined he wasn't even human."  
  
"Lana," he said gently. "He's still the same guy. Believe me, it freaked me out too, at first, but now that I'm used to the idea, it's actually pretty cool."  
  
"I'm just glad I'm not the only one who knows. God, Pete, aren't you terrified you'll let it slip. It's such a huge responsibility."  
  
"Yeah. Now you know why Clark didn't want to burden us with it. I was angry at first, that he hadn't told me sooner, but now I understand. He was just doing what he could to keep us safe. He was afraid that we'd react badly. When he first told me, I was pissed off as hell. Not that he was an alien, but because he didn't trust me enough to tell me sooner. I get it now though. As bad as he wanted to, he just couldn't risk it. And he did want to Lana. He talked about telling you all the time."  
  
"But he didn't," she said coldly. "All that time, he lied to me."  
  
"Calm down," he repeated, watching the door anxiously.  
  
"What do you mean, calm down? My boyfriend-"  
  
"Shh!" he whispered frantically, putting a hand over her mouth. "Lower your voice."  
  
Lana nodded and complied. "My boyfriend is missing. And he's an alien. And he's lied to me every day for as long as I've known him. I think I have a valid reason to be upset!"  
  
"Okay Lana," he said finally. "Look, I'm probably the only one in the world who understands what you're going through right now. That's why you're here. Getting hysterical about it isn't going to help anyone. Please, believe me when I say you'll get used to the idea. As for Clark.well, we'll just hope for the best I guess. Lana.you know he loves you right?"  
  
She nodded slowly. "He said so.before he left."  
  
"So, what're you so worried about then? Do you love him?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered reluctantly.  
  
"Did you tell him so?"  
  
"Yes," she said quietly. "He left anyway."  
  
"But not 'cause he wanted to. You know that."  
  
"I feel like I'm just waiting for something to happen. It' s like.I haven't decided yet if I should hate him or not."  
  
She looked away and Pete saw tears in her eyes.  
  
"Lana." he started.  
  
She brushed him off. "No, it's okay," she said nonchalantly. "You know.life goes on right?"  
  
He said nothing. Her eyes, sad and tired, suddenly looked very far away.  
  
"I have to go. Thanks Pete," she said, offering him a pitiful half-smile.  
  
"Anytime," he replied meekly.  
  
They got to their feet. Pete picked up his bag, and handed her hers. She opened the door, and warm, cheery light streamed in. 


	6. Torn

Lana was rushing around, frantically taking orders and pouring refills on a busy Sunday afternoon. It was the middle of summer and she was hot, tired, and overworked. Two girls had called in sick that day, supposedly with some virus, although she knew that both of them had tickets to an evening concert and were probably at home this very minute applying purple eyeliner and dying their hair temporarily pink. She sighed and scrawled something illegible on a pad of paper. She smiled wearily at her customer, one of many who had regarded her that day with quiet indifference. Although these people would be a big part of her life that summer; the extra shifts occupied her time, and kept her mind off other, more dangerous things, Lana could not help but feel slighted in some way. Other kids her age would be just waking up now. She'd been at the Talon since three that morning. Lana sighed to herself. 'This is what you wanted,' she thought.  
  
"Lana!" someone called from across the room.  
  
"What?" she yelled back, over blaring music and several conversations going on around her.  
  
She turned to see Alicia, the only other waitress there, at the counter, holding the phone and motioning urgently to get her attention.  
  
Lana rolled her eyes and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face and tucked them behind one ear. She grabbed the phone from Alicia's hand and set the empty tray she was holding on the counter.  
  
She gestured for Alicia to keep working, and mentally reminded herself that she should look into getting the girl a raise. Like Lana, she was dedicated to the Talon and worked almost as tirelessly as herself, without all the perks of management.  
  
"Hello, Lana speaking, how can I help you?" She hoped the annoyance that had crept into her voice wasn't too blatantly obvious.  
  
"Don't hang up. I know you're busy, and probably angry, but, please just.don't hang up."  
  
The voice on the other end was slightly muffled, but it was distinct enough for her to know exactly who she was speaking to.  
  
"Clark?" she whispered, suddenly very aware of the room, crowded with people. She pulled the phone cord around the door and shut it, so she was alone in the storage room, where it was somewhat quieter.  
  
"It's me, Lana. You okay?"  
  
She could feel tears springing to her eyes, and her throat constricting. She leaned against the wall, taking short, shallow breaths, in an effort to contain her shock. Hearing his voice was so foreign, so strange, so overwhelming that she almost felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.  
  
Finally, she forced her voice to work for her. "Are you alright?" she gasped. "Where are you?" The words were coming quickly now, and more easily. There were a hundred things she wanted to ask him, and she had the distinct feeling their time together would be brief.  
  
"Christ," she said, putting a clammy hand to her forehead. "I can't believe it's you."  
  
"Are you okay?" he repeated.  
  
Lana's voice broke. "Of course I'm not!" she wailed. "Clark, where the hell are you? I haven't heard from you in two months and now, all of a sudden--." She stopped herself and took a deep breath. A little calmer, she managed to ask him again if he was alright.  
  
"I'm fine. I'm in Metropolis." He seemed to be waiting anxiously for her response.  
  
"Where?" She was already untying her green apron. "I'll come get you. You can come home."  
  
"No!" he said quickly. "No.I.Lana, I'm sorry. I can't tell you where I am."  
  
"Clark," she whispered, her voice wavering, "don't do this to me. I waited so long for this...please." She knew she was quickly bordering desperation, but it was all she could do to stop herself from crying on the phone.  
  
"Lana," he said quietly. "Please, don't, okay? This is hard for me too."  
  
"Yeah," she said sarcastically. "I'll bet. I can see how incredibly difficult this is for you."  
  
"That's not fair Lana," he said angrily.  
  
"It's been two months. Two months that I've waited for this call. And now you're just doing this for the hell of it?" she said, the tears falling faster than she could wipe them away. "What do you want? If you're not coming home, then why are you calling?"  
  
"I.I just wanted to hear your voice. That's all Lana."  
  
"Fine. Fine, you've heard it. Now what?"  
  
"Please don't be mad."  
  
"She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. "I can't do this Clark. Please just, come home. Please," she pleaded.  
  
"I can't. Not yet."  
  
"I know about your secret. Your parents told me and Pete filled in the rest. I know everything."  
  
The silence was deafening.  
  
"Say something Clark."  
  
"I'm so sorry for hurting you," he whispered tenderly.  
  
She said nothing. Then, "You need to end this. Stop being such a coward. I was so scared for you. Your parents had no idea where you were.I should call them."  
  
"Tell them I'm safe, that I miss them."  
  
She nodded. "Okay, I will." She sniffed and dried her tears with the back of her hand.  
  
"I miss you too Lana. I love you."  
  
"Yeah," she said, doubtfully.  
  
There was a long pause on the other line, as if he was waiting for her to speak again.  
  
"I should go."  
  
"I guess so," she said resignedly. Lana seemed torn between wanting to keep him on the line, and wanting to hang up on him.  
  
"Bye."  
  
She waited for the phone to click off on the other line, before allowing it to fall from her hand onto the floor, where it landed with a thud. She fell back against the wall and sank to the floor, her body wracked with gasping sobs. She held her face in her hands, guilt weighing heavily on her heart. 


	7. Guilt

Lana glanced sullenly at the calendar behind the counter, hung beside the  
  
espresso machine. Alicia had put it up at the beginning of summer, jokingly to remind some of their more forgetful waitresses what day it was and when  
  
they had to come in for work. To Lana, it was just a constant reminder of  
  
the days that passed too quickly. Her life was on hold, waiting for one  
  
person. Looking at it now, she saw that it was nearing the end of August.   
  
It had been three months since she'd seen Clark. He had not called since  
  
that first time, a month ago, and she was beginning to worry again. She  
  
replayed their time together constantly, scenes of happier times flitting in  
  
her mind, like a slide show film. She'd come to realize that her happy  
  
memories of Clark were few. It seemed that with them, the bad outweighed  
  
the good. Their relationship, as it had always been, was full of drama; she  
  
knew she'd cried too many times over Clark. She thought sometimes that,  
  
perhaps, the risk wasn't worth it. She always seemed to pay for it with her  
  
heart.  
  
Lana brushed away the bad feelings that consumed her then, and concentrated, as usual, on the Talon. The people there counted on her to be cheery and smiling when they came in. She busied herself with making a cappuccino, and before she left the comfortable safety the counter provided to face the crowd of people, Lana plastered a fake smile on her face. She looked up; someone had just walked in the door. Lana stopped dead in her tracks. The smile faded slowly from her lips, replaced with an expression that vacillated between pain and awe.   
  
'There he is, just standing there, like normal.'  
  
It was like she'd imagined: He would just walk in, like nothing had ever  
  
changed and they could pretend that none of this had ever happened. It was  
  
what she'd been hoping for all summer, but now that the moment had arrived  
  
it hurt more than she ever thought it would. The cup of coffee she'd been  
  
carrying slipped out of her hand, fell to the floor and shattered. Lana  
  
barely even noticed. Alicia looked over at her strangely, but then her gaze  
  
turned to Clark. She stared in amazement a moment and then sprung into  
  
action, scurrying into the storage room to find a mop to clean up the mess.   
  
He stood there, watching her from afar, the way he used to--as if she was  
  
untouchable. All sense of logic disappeared the second she saw his face.   
  
He looked the same. His eyes met her gaze, and her chest tightened. 'God,  
  
he's so beautiful,' she thought. His eyes bored into her, soulful and sad.   
  
Lana's heart beat wildly as he approached, tentatively, as if he was afraid.   
  
Suddenly, it wasn't about what her head was telling her anymore. It was only  
  
about her heart, and her body, which tensed as he drew near. Love and lust.   
  
Those were the ties that bound her to this man.  
  
'Despite everything he's done, and everything that's happened, in this one  
  
moment...the way he's looking at me...there's nothing in the world that could make  
  
me believe he doesn't love me as much as he says he does.'  
  
He was hesitant at first, as he opened the door to the Talon. But as soon as he  
  
saw her, laughing with one of the waitresses, he felt more at ease. She  
  
looked different than when he last saw her. Older, somehow, than her sixteen  
  
years. There were lines of worry etched in her face. He realized, guiltily,  
  
that he was the cause of that worry, and wondered again if he made the right  
  
choice coming back to this place. She had the stance of someone more  
  
confident than the girl he left behind in Smallville. Someone who had   
  
suffered, who weathered the storm and came out unscathed. But it was too  
  
late to back out. She'd seen him, and as she lifted her eyes to meet Clark's, the breath caught in his throat. He'd forgotten how incredibly beautiful she was, and what she did to him. He'd also forgotten everything he'd wanted to say to her. His mind went blank. She was the only person in the room that he could see. Maybe in the whole world. Since he couldn't think of anything to say, he said nothing at all. She stared at him, melancholy  
  
and unshakable, before dropping the coffee she was holding. He realized, relieved, that she was probably just as terrified as he was. Perhaps she was not quite as unscathed as he assumed. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards her.  
  
Lana's legs propelled her forward, and suddenly she was enveloped in  
  
Clark's arms, still warm and familiar after all this time. He touched  
  
her, cautiously at first, his hand brushing the hair out of her eyes  
  
lightly. He saw that she was crying, steady streams of tears that made  
  
tracks down her face. His shoulder muffled the sound of her sobs, which  
  
faded gradually to quiet whimpers. He pressed his cheek to hers and felt her warm  
  
skin against his.  
  
"It's okay," he murmured.  
  
He held her face in his hands and gave her a sad, sort-of half smile. She  
  
smiled back at him, through her tears, but she did not look any happier. He  
  
stared into her eyes, desperately, as if he was searching for something; permission, perhaps. He brought his mouth to hers, tasting her tender flesh.  
  
She closed her eyes and gave in to him, though something inside her  
  
urged her to make him stop. Their lips crushed together almost violently as   
  
her nails knead into his muscular arms. He held her gently, though her  
  
body stiffened under his touch and she seemed to be more hesitant. His hand  
  
rested on the small of her back, supporting her lightly. She was a fragile creature. He would not hurt her again. He kissed her fiercely, unapologetically, and wondered why it was he ever left in the first place. How could he have ever left this? The taste of her tongue was intoxicating. He  
  
wanted so badly to feel her love him. She kissed him back, lustfully, but he  
  
could feel her detachment from the whole situation. She was crying again, her  
  
chest heaving against him, her tears wet against his skin. She was kissing  
  
him frantically, roughly, her lips pressing into his so hard it hurt; she  
  
seemed to be enjoying that part of it. Trying to suck the life out of him,  
  
bruising him, hurting him. 'Something is wrong,' he thought. She stopped suddenly, as if she'd come to her senses and remembered that what she was  
  
doing was wrong.  
  
"No," she whispered agonizingly, and pulled away from him.  
  
His arms dropped to his sides, and he released her. "What is it?" he  
  
breathed, suddenly aware of all the people staring at them. She seemed not  
  
to have noticed.  
  
She was trembling, her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze.  
  
He put a warm hand lightly on her arm. She shook her head, and  
  
painstakingly slowly, lifted it and let it fall back to his side. Then she  
  
turned, drying her eyes with the back of her hand, and ran out of the Talon.  
  
Clark felt all the eyes in the room on him as he stood helplessly, watching  
  
as Lana disappeared around the corner. He was stunned, and afraid, again.   
  
He ran his tongue over his lips, and could taste the salt in her tears. 


	8. Abandon

Lana scrubbed the counter feverishly, but finally threw the towel aside and surveyed the Talon with a careful eye. She nodded satisfactorily and was turning off the lights in the storage room when she heard a loud knock on the door. Her heart started pounding, but she told herself that there was no real reason to be afraid.  
  
"Who is it?" she called, alone in the large room, suddenly rethinking not taking Alicia up on her offer to close that night.  
  
"It's just me," Clark called back. "Lana, let me in! C'mon, it's been three days, you have to talk to me eventually."  
  
She strode purposefully over to the door and unlocked it quickly. "Do I?" she said, smiling a bit.  
  
"Yes. You can't just keep avoiding me, Lana. We have to talk about this; you know we do," he said urgently, standing in the doorway.  
  
"Fine. Come in."  
  
He nodded followed her inside, where he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while she pulled two chairs off a table and motioned for him to sit down.  
  
She raised a perfectly arched brow and asked him coolly if he wanted anything.  
  
"I'm not a customer," he said, glancing at her warily.  
  
"Do you want anything?" she repeated.  
  
"No. Please.just, sit."  
  
She sighed and complied with his request.  
  
"So.uh, how are you?" he asked politely.  
  
Lana glared at him. "Honestly, I've been better," she replied curtly.  
  
"You're angry," he stated calmly.  
  
Her expression softened a bit. "Yes," she said, staring at the table.  
  
Clark cleared his throat. "Don't you want to know why I came back?"  
  
"Well, I hope after three months you experienced some sort of huge epiphany that allows you to clearly see your path in life. But somehow, I'm guessing that didn't happen, since you're back here, in Smallville."  
  
"Sorry, no big epiphany."  
  
She looked away. "So, why did you come back?"  
  
"You. I missed you."  
  
"Yes, and you sound very pleased about that. Congratulations," she hissed.  
  
Clark winced.  
  
"What?" she said nastily. "You didn't actually expect to waltz back in here after three months and I'd just welcome you home with open arms? Or did you?"  
  
"I knew you'd be upset," he started.  
  
"Upset? Upset doesn't even begin to describe what I am. I am so angry I can't even tell you Clark. I want to hurt you. I want it to keep you up at night. I want it to eat away at you, and destroy you, the way it did me. I want to hate you. But I can't."  
  
"You think I wasn't hurting too? Do you think that leaving here, leaving you, and my family and my friends wasn't the hardest thing I've ever done? You don't think I lay awake at night thinking about all of you, wanting to come home? I did. And believe me, it hurt like hell."  
  
"Oh, well, I'm so sorry for your pain!" she said sarcastically. "Clark, you had a choice! We didn't. You were the one that left, remember?"  
  
"I was trying to protect you!" he said, his voice growing louder.  
  
"Protect me from what?" she yelled.  
  
"From.me!" he sputtered. "Don't you get it?" he shouted. "I had to leave. Do you honestly think I left because I wanted to?"  
  
"No," she said piercingly, "But you did it anyway. You were selfish. You didn't think about your parents, or Pete, or me. All you thought about was yourself."  
  
"You're right. You're right," he repeated. "And I'm sorry Lana. I'm so, so sorry. I came back to fix things. To stop running away from my problems. To stop being a coward. So let me do it."  
  
"I'm sick of always giving you an easy way out."  
  
"Look.what is it you want from me, Lana?"  
  
"What do I want?" She feigned contemplation for a moment. "Well, I want my summer back. I want those days before you left to be the best memories of our relationship. I want to forget tonight, and just have Lex's wedding be the end of it."  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"Yes, I do," she whispered.  
  
"Lana, please.believe me when I say that everything I've ever done, is because I love you." He closed his eyes a moment, and when he opened them, they shone with tears.  
  
"I never meant to hurt you."  
  
"You never do. But somehow," she said, frowning regrettably, "I always get left behind."  
  
"Is that what this is about Lana? Your abandonment issues again?"  
  
Lana stared at him in horror, mouth agape, as he clamped a hand over his lips, regret and shame washing over his face.  
  
"Lana," he choked, "I didn't mean that."  
  
"Yes, you did," she said, her lips quivering. She stood up, and seemingly wandered aimlessly to the counter. She stood stiffly, watching him from across the room, as far away from him as possible.  
  
"It's okay," she said after a moment. His words stung, but they were true.  
  
"You're right."  
  
"I shouldn't have said that."  
  
"Why not? It's the truth, isn't it? So thanks, for helping to further my future need for therapy."  
  
Clark furrowed his brow, looking decidedly angrily at her than he had ever seen before.  
  
"Fine!" he exploded. "You want me to bring your parents back? Or Whitney? You want me to make Nell love you? I can't do it Lana. I wish that I could, but I can't. Look at me. I didn't abandon you. I came back."  
  
"You're the one that left me in the first place," Lana shot back.  
  
"You're right. I'm not perfect. I'm sorry for that, I really am. You think I put you on a pedestal? What do you think you're doing to me? Look, all I can say is that I love you, I've always loved you, and that's never going to change. I can't promise I won't break your heart, but I swear, I'd rather die than hurt you again. Do you hear what I'm saying Lana? I love you! Isn't that enough?"  
  
She realized suddenly that it wasn't. All the pain and anxiety she'd felt in his absence had been replaced with new feelings of anger and betrayal.  
  
Throughout the entirety of their blowout, Clark had not risen from his chair, where he still sat obediently awaiting her response.  
  
She sighed and sat down again, across from Clark. He looked anxiously up at her, eyes wide and searching her face for an answer.  
  
"It's not worth it," she whispered. "Everything about our relationship is so difficult."  
  
"So you want to give up? Things are never going to be perfect for us, but you won't even give it a chance because you know it won't last?"  
  
"Everyone I've ever loved has left me. I figure I should just cut my losses now."  
  
"Don't do this Lana," he said, shaking his head furiously. "Don't make this decision."  
  
"I didn't. You did. Three months ago."  
  
He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "It's over Clark," she said quietly. She stood up and pushed the chair in, leaving him sitting at the table alone. She disappeared behind the counter a moment and returned with her coat. She avoided looking at Clark, whose stricken expression, she knew, would cause her more pain than she was already experiencing.  
  
Clark stood up suddenly, with new reserve. "Before I left, you said that you loved me. Do you still. love me?"  
  
Lana paused at the door, her hand wrapped around the knob. "Yes," she responded unenthusiastically. She did not turn back to look at him.  
  
"Of course I do. But things are different now. I don't trust you anymore. Maybe love just isn't enough." She licked her lips and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Clark. I really am." Lana opened the door.  
  
"Wait!" he cried, moving towards her. "Don't walk away from me. Please, you'll regret this. All I can promise you is that you will never find anyone that will love you as much as I do. Don't walk out that door Lana. Just, come back.talk to me."  
  
Lana stood a moment, halfway outside, before she turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind her. 


	9. Breakable

"Breakable"  
  
Clark started up at her forehead and traced her face with a feather-light touch. She lay silent and still, facing him, eyes closed. His hand brushed lightly over her shoulder, settled briefly on the black lace material of her bra, before continuing on to her side, where it finally rested comfortably on her exposed stomach. Her skin was incredibly smooth, and soft to the touch. It smelled familiar, and inviting, like baby lotion or some kind of sun block. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Lana's head lay in the crook of his neck. Clark ran his fingers through her hair. Her hand fell sleepily on his bare chest. Lana shivered in his arms, so Clark pulled the sheets over them. He watched intently, smiling, as her lashes fluttered while she slept.  
  
When Lana woke up, some time later, it was pitch-black in the room. She made out the outline of her bed, and Clark, whose warm body she was propped up against. He was looking out the window, at the stars that provided little light. She reached over him, and turned on the lamp on her bedside table. Clark squinted as his eyes adjusted to the change. Lana smiled apologetically and lay back down beside him. She laid her head on his shoulder, her lips grazing his skin. He continued to stare restlessly outside.  
  
"What is it?" she murmured, her eyes searching his face.  
  
He smiled a little at her. "Nothing." After a moment, "You."  
  
"What about me?" she asked, sitting up, releasing herself from his embrace.  
  
"Nothing too lurid, I hope."  
  
He grinned. "Not this time."  
  
Lana laughed. She stretched sexily, watching Clark's gaze wander up her body, as she pulled her arms over her head.  
  
She sat on her knees and leaned up against him, her lips brushing against his. He closed his eyes and whispered her name. She pulled away.  
  
"Yes?" she whispered huskily.  
  
He opened his eyes and stared at her soberly. "I love you."  
  
She nodded, smiling sadly. "I know. I love you too." Her voice came out choked, and not nearly as strong as she'd wanted.  
  
He looked away. "You don't seem exactly thrilled about that."  
  
Her shoulders feel and she turned away from him. "Oh Clark." she said simply, her voice trailing off.  
  
He picked her hand up gingerly, as if he was afraid too much pressure would break her. She glanced up at him and gave him a small, encouraging nod. She bit her lip and turned her gaze to him, and brought her hand up to his face to stroke his cheek.  
  
"I love you," she said again, this time as if she was trying to convince herself. "But I don't trust you. Maybe I never will."  
  
"Lana-," he started.  
  
"Shh." she said, putting her thumb over his lips, preventing him from saying anything more.  
  
"You're going to leave again," she said matter of factly.  
  
He narrowed his eyes angrily and turned away from her, roughly swinging his legs over the bed so they hit the floor. He sat, his head in his hands, and stared at the ground.  
  
"Lana," he said in a measured tone, that showed constraint, "I already told you I wasn't going to leave again." He sounded as if he was losing patience, something Lana had always assumed he had in unlimited supply.  
  
"You're wrong," she replied, equally as cold and controlled.  
  
He let out an annoyed sigh. "Stop telling me what I'm going to do," he said, his voice growing dangerously quiet. He was struggling to main his composure.  
  
Lana recognized this, and adjusted her approach. She sat down next to him on the bed, and slipped her hand loosely in his. They sat stiffly like this until Lana finally spoke again.  
  
"I know you've said that about now, but what about the future? That's what this is about, isn't it? Clark, believe me when I say I know you're not lying to me."  
  
At this, he seemed to relax a little.  
  
"I just think you're choosing not to think about the big picture. The reason you left the last time is the same reason you'll leave again. You can't stay here forever. You must know that!"  
  
"Why not?" he said indignantly. "Why can't I stay here?"  
  
"Because, Smallville isn't your destiny. Don't you get it Clark?" she whispered. "You are so much bigger than this. Than this town.than me."  
  
He shook his head vigorously as if he was trying to shake away her words. "No," he said softly.  
  
"Clark," she said gently. "Smallville breeds farmers, and farmers' wives. People marry young, take over their parents' businesses and have lots of kids. You have a future that is so much greater than that."  
  
"What if I don't want that, Lana? What if I just want to be normal?" He stood up and started pacing around the room.  
  
"Be quiet!" Lana hissed. "Chloe will hear us."  
  
"I don't care," he responded defiantly. "Let her. C'mon Lana, she knows we're together."  
  
"Yeah, but I really don't think Gabe would approve of our little sleepover, Clark."  
  
Clark nodded and lowered his voice. "Okay. Fine. I should just go."  
  
"No!" Lana said, exasperated.  
  
"Lana, I don't know what you want anymore! You say that you love me--."  
  
"I do love you," Lana interrupted.  
  
"But you're so scared to be with me. Why? I already said I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"You can deny the truth all you want, but we both know, that come graduation, you'll be off to Metropolis and I'll get left behind, as always."  
  
"How do you know that's how it's going to be? Do you want to stay here?"  
  
"What, and run the Talon all my life?" She shook her head and scoffed at the thought.  
  
"I don't want to be somebody's little wifey, padding around barefoot in the kitchen, holding the baby."  
  
Clark smiled at the mental picture. "So? No one's asking you to do that." He returned to her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her.  
  
"I don't know if I can stand being second best. After all, you'll be busy saving the world all the time." She said it sarcastically, but both of them knew, there was some truth to her words.  
  
"I'm never too busy for you. And you're never second best." He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, letting his lips linger there.  
  
She looked somewhat appeased by this, and pulled him down on the bed again, where she snuggled up next to him flirtatiously.  
  
"Maybe." she said thoughtfully, "we could just enjoy the moment," as if she had never brought up Clark's leaving at all. "I guess we shouldn't think about this now. It sort of spoils things, doesn't it? I mean, it's not like we've even been dating that long. Technically, only for a week or something."  
  
"Right," he agreed. "We have two more years of school ahead of us. And then, when the time comes."  
  
"We'll see," Lana said softly.  
  
After a long silence, Clark spoke up.  
  
"You could come with me," he said softly. "To Metropolis."  
  
She smiled at him, forced and unconvincing. "Yeah.maybe," she replied, knowing full well that she would not be leaving Smallville with Clark Kent.  
  
The End 


End file.
